Free The Lost Night by Jayne Castle Page A

here on Rainshadow. They consider their secrets and their privacy sacrosanct. If you try to question them, they’re as likely as not to meet you at the front door with a mag-rez pistol or a really big knife.”
    “I’m aware of that problem. Slade briefed me on the local customs and attitudes toward authorities. That’s another reason why I’d prefer to work through you when I interview the locals. Everyone aroundhere seems to trust you.”
    She glanced at the row of glass tea and herb canisters that lined one wall. “It’s probably the tea. Word has gotten around the island that my blends are special. People like them.”
    “In other words, you’re the local dealer.”
    She raised her brows. “You could say that. But in case you’re wondering, nothing I sell in this shop is on any government agency’s list of banned or regulated drugs.”
    “This isn’t tea-growing country. Where do you get your supplies?”
    “The traditional teas come from the usual commercial vendors on the mainland. But I pick a lot of the herbs that I use in my special blends here on the island.”
    “Where, as Slade pointed out, the various government agencies don’t have a presence.”
    “I know my herbs,” she said.
    “Mushroom hunters say something similar just before they get fast-tracked to the ER after eating one of the poisonous variety.”
    She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You’re a real suspicious sort of guy, aren’t you?”
    “Goes with the job. But you seem to be the suspicious type, too. Is there a reason for that?”
    “Look, there’s something we need to get straight here,” she said. “I trust Slade and I know he’s genuinely concerned about whatever is going on inside the Preserve. I realize he would not have called in Foundation security if he didn’t think the situation was serious. For his sakeand the sake of the other people here on the island, I’m willing to help if I can. But as I told you last night, I will not help you dig up old secrets and buried pasts just to satisfy your suspicions.”
    “You’ve made it clear that your first loyalty is to your friends and neighbors. I’m good with that.”
    “Just so we’re clear.”
    She rezzed her senses and inhaled cautiously. The strong, bright energy felt right—a harmonious counterpoint for Harry’s midnight-dark aura. She poured the brew into a cup and put it on the counter in front of him.
    “There you go,” she said. “A specially blended harmony tea for a shadow-aura.”
    He picked up the cup, examined the golden-hued brew for a few seconds and then inhaled cautiously. “Smells good, like the woods after a rain. Or maybe the ocean.”
    She smiled coolly. “That’s an indication that I got the blend right for you.”
    He took a cautious sip. His eyes heated a little. He lowered himself onto one of the stools and took another sip.
    “I like it,” he said. “I’ve never enjoyed tea in my life but this is good.”
    “Technically speaking it’s not tea. It’s an herbal tisane. But that’s just semantics.”
    Neither of them spoke for a while. Harry drank his tea in silence as though it were a fine wine or rare scotch, clearly savoring it.
    The back door opened, shattering the stillness that had settled over the bookshop. A wall of bookshelves blocked the view of the rear door from the café, but Rachel heard Jilly Finch’s familiar footsteps. Darwinaheard her, too. She chortled enthusiastically and bounced down from the windowsill to greet Jilly.
    “Good morning, Rachel,” Jilly sang out from the other side of the book wall. “And good morning to you, too, Darwina. Looks like you both got here ahead of me today. Saw the bicycle out back.”
    “Hi, Jilly,” Rachel called. “Everything okay out at your place?”
    “Yes. Didn’t lose the power, thank goodness, because I was right in the middle of a terrific scene involving Harry Sebastian and a ghost.”
    “The ghost of what?”
    “Never mind, it’s complicated.